Soon To Be
by DatPanda
Summary: Cato wakes up one night from a loud noise, only to find out it was an intruder named Peeta. He introduces himself as an angel. Very skeptic to the idea, Cato finds it hard to believe but Peeta manages to convince him a whole way around over time. Fantasy AU, angel!Peeta & other angel!Characters. R&R! Also SLASH between Cato/Peeta! Peetato!
1. An Angel?

_This idea suddenly popped into my head and I just started writing. I'm hoping to make it really, really long. I don't know. I'll try._

* * *

**_CRASH!_**

Cato's eyes jolted awake, the sudden noise coming from downstairs prompting him to get out of his sleep instantly. "What the fuck was that?" He asked no one in particular, shuffling himself out of his bed. As soon as he crawled out of his blankets he felt the cold sensation of the air overtake him, his instincts making him shiver from the chilliness. "And why is it so fucking cold?" He profanely asked once again, crossing his harms and hugging himself close. It didn't help that he was dressed in nothing but his gray boxer briefs. Putting his feet into the warmth of a pair of bear paw house-slippers, he took a few steps to his door then latched the door knob, slowly opening it just in case it was an intruder.

The wooden door creaked open, the sound painfully ringing against his eardrums. If there was something he could compare that sound to, it would have to be like a dog squealing unreasonably... except dogs were cuter. He fully opened the door then walked outside, taking a few steps forward to where the staircase was at. Looking down the steps made him feel uneasy. Perhaps it was the crash noise that made him paranoid since it suggested that there might be an intruder, but it could also just be the darkness of the house making it harder to convince him on going downstairs to investigate whatever the hell that was.

"Seriously, what the fuck..." He whispered to himself lightly as he started strolling down the stairs, putting a hand against the wall to prevent from falling. What he couldn't afford was to get hurt if there was an actual intruder in the house. Cato continued to walk down the stairs by each slow and steady step, stopping momentarily whenever he managed to make it creak on accident, cursing mentally every time.

_**CRASH!**_

Another one, except this sounded much clearer. It was like glass breaking but with more substance in it. Cato exhaled deeply once again, his breath hitching from slight panic. Quickly, he tip-toed his way over to the entrance, grabbed an umbrella on the side and tip-toed his way over to wherever the sound was coming from; The Kitchen.

The kitchen was partially lighted by the open refrigerator, bright enough to reveal the back side of the suspected intruder but too dim to actually see what the hell he was exactly. He seemed a lot smaller in size than Cato, and the boy felt relieved, taking tiny and quiet steps toward the culprit. He stopped right behind the counter, the only thing separating him and the intruder now.

"Hey, you!" He yelled intimidatingly as possible.

The intruder turned his head around very slowly and Cato got to see his face vaguely; blue eyes, a defined jaw, a dark shade of blond hair and he was wearing a suit of some sort? What kind of criminal wears a suit? By Cato's knowledge, no criminals would want to wear a suit when trespassing into another person's house no matter how classy they may be.

The light suddenly flicked on much to Cato's surprise, because he didn't even mess with the lights and nor did the perpetrator in front of him. He held the umbrella in a defensive stance, ready for any assaults. "Get the fuck outta my house before I call the cops!" He threatened the stranger.

The stranger just tilted his head as if not understanding anything the boy was saying. _Was he a foreigner?_

"Yes," he answered while looking down, then looking up, "I suppose you could call me that."

"What?" Cato inquired.

"I am a foreigner, so to speak." He explained.

This time it was Cato's turn to look confused. "A foreigner? You're speaking English perfectly fine!"

"My name's Peeta," the intruder introduced himself. For someone who was trespassing into another's home, he had a lot of guts to actually uphold a conversation with Cato.

"I don't give a shit about your name! Who the fuck are you?!"

"I am an angel," Peeta explained with a very vague smile. There, but very unlikely to notice.

"Ha-ha, you're hilarious. Seriously though, who the fuck are you?" Cato pointed the sharp tip of his umbrella at the 'angel'. "Just so you know, I have a weapon and you don't, so I have the advantage."

Peeta inspected the weapon silently, identifying its material and what elements it happened to be made up of. He then looked at Cato. "Unfortunately, that 'weapon' of yours cannot kill me, let alone injure me."

"Excuse me?" Cato couldn't believe how much of an arrogant asshole the guy was yet so classy with his vocabulary. Who the fuck speaks like that? "Are you challenging me?"

"Absolutely not. It goes against my protocols as an angel to harm any human being," he politely said and smiled.

"Stop with the role-playing. It's lame as hell."

"Hell is... lame? An odd description of the bizarre place," Peeta laughed.

Cato was absolutely astounded by this guy and crept over to a counter where he kept a phone just in case the one in the living room disappeared. He attempted to dial up 911, but the phone suddenly flew out of his hand onto the wall and broke apart. He looked up to see Peeta's hand stretched out, as if he whipped the device away. "What the fuck?"

"Might I kindly suggest for you to stop swearing? It's mildly disturbing."

Cato pointed at him frantically and accusingly. "N-no! I'm not fucking stopping until you fucking tell me what the fuck is going on!"

Peeta sighed. "I told you, I am an angel."

"But angels aren't even real!"

"You lack faith, which is understandable considering your past," Peeta stated matter-of-factly.

"No, stop it right there. You're freaking me the fuck out," Cato ran over to the broken phone bits trying to put them back together.

"Don't be," Peeta appeared right beside him catching the boy by surprise, almost pushing him against the wall unintentionally. "Here, let me fix that." Without waiting for an answer, Peeta hovered his hand right by his hip, his palm facing toward the broken pieces. The parts slowly levitated into the air, combining together to reform the phone. Cato was appalled. It looked completely new, without a single scratch on it. "You're welcome."

"How'd you do that?" Cato asked curiously.

"For the third time, I am an angel. As a warrior of God, I am capable of many things you humans are incapable of."

"Okay, uh," Cato paused, "Say that I believed you, you know, that you're an angel. Then what are you doing in my house?"

"I was given a task."

"Task?"

"It is confidential."

Silence.

"You can't tell me?"

"No."

Cato didn't know what to do, so he stood silent. Peeta then spoke, "Well, you deserve to know a part of it," he stops, looking about the kitchen before continuing, "God directly asked me to watch over you."

"What?" Cato gaped. "Like, you being my guardian angel?" The idea sounded so... gay.

"Yes, something like that." Peeta read his mind and was going to tackle it, but decided not to at the last second.

"Okay, but why me?"

"I do not know. All I know is that you are part of God's divine plans for the future."

Cato nodded seriously then realized that he was actually taking the guy's words to heart. He doubted the whole angel thing but what the 'angel' just did was something not anyone could do. I mean, fixing it a completely broken electronic device with a mere flick of a wrist within just a matter of seconds? None of it made sense. Unless he was some sort of witch. Then that would mean that magic is real, so what wouldn't be real about angels? He was so confused.

Peeta quietly giggled at the boy's rampaging thoughts, finding slight amusement in it. "Do not fret, I do not plan to be of a hindrance to you. I was, however, asked that I protect you physically, not just watch you from afar. Our father is a very impatient man when it comes to an agenda and losing you could destroy the foundation of it," he grinned.

Cato didn't understand, but did he have to understand? Everything Peeta has said so far was crazed words! They were garbage, complete utter trash, yet Cato believed it! Something about him was convincing him. Perhaps the way he spoke? Something.

"So what do you want?"

"I'd like to protect you."

Cato snorted. "What is there to protect me from?"

"Death," Peeta answered bluntly, scaring Cato. "It can be an unfortunate and obnoxious event. We wouldn't want anything to hinder God's plans in any way."

Cato's head felt a tinge of pain and he felt his eyes start to black out a bit. Anxiety attacks out of nowhere. Nothing made sense anymore. He fell down on his knees and looked up to see two fingers pointing at him. He saw them coming closer and as soon as it made contact with his forehead, his eyes shut, his brain shutting down for the night.

"Good night, Cato."


	2. Beginning of Senior Year!

A/N: I tried to make this chapter funny in some way as well as sweet. I'm introducing several characters. c:

* * *

Cato woke up groggily, the corner of his eyes crusty for whatever reason and his eyes drooping low as if he had no sleep. "That dream was so messed up," he commented as he sat up on his bed, leaning his back against the headboard. The dream felt so real - too real - to him that he was on the verge of going insane right now. All of it; from the whole trespasser to the whole angel deal, Cato believed all of it for a moment because it felt so damn real. Now learning that it just a dream only made him feel worse. "God dammit," he complained as he rubbed his face with both hands, subtly picking out the tear-drenched crust around his eyes at the same time.

The morning sunlight through two windows practically lit up the entire room, making it hard to fall back asleep again. Cato felt the need to sleep again despite having woken up already, and would've if it weren't for his younger sister, Jocelyn, barging into his room suddenly.

"Cato, wake up!" Jocelyn yelled as she walked in, stopping as soon as she saw that her brother was only in his boxer briefs. "Ew!" She turned around swiftly. "Put on some clothes or something and... come downstairs!" For a thirteen year old girl, she was an utter bitch. She then proceeded to hop her way out of his room, super-duper happily while mentioning something about today being the first school day of the year.

"Oh, school... why do you even exist? Not like you have any purpose anymore..." Cato said to no one but himself, getting out of the bed. It was his senior year now and technically speaking, he didn't have to be here anymore. He had all of his credits, but apparently colleges appreciated a nice attendance record. The warmth of the sunlight was enough to motivate him to go get a quick shower in the bathroom. Stripping off of his clothes, he licked his lips. He disliked conceited people, he really did, but couldn't help admiring his own body. It was... more of a self-appreciation thing than anything.

Slowly, he ran his manly hands over his toned pecs and down his well-defined stomach to his abdomen.

"Cato! Hurry up! I have to use the bathroom!" Jocelyn demanded with her annoyingly high-pitched voice.

"Chill the fuck out!" Cato yelled back, turning the shower on in the bathtub and waiting for it to go warm before he hopped in it.

"Wh- mom! Cato just cussed at me!" Jocelyn's voice rang loudly, her voice fading as she walked away to probably snitch on her older brother. She was thirteen now, going to high school for the first time, and just... ugh, how much Cato disliked having a younger sister. Why couldn't he be blessed with the presence of a younger brother instead? They would most likely get along more, talking about sports, video games and the likes with. All Jocelyn talked about was her ex-boyfriends and how much she hated certain girls from her school. Not only did it annoy Cato, it was completely pointless.

The warm water from the shower hose ran down his body from the top of his head to the tip of his toe. He had to continuously spin his body around to dampen the areas where it couldn't reach. Quickly, he squirted a handful amount of coconut scented shampoo into his palm and scrubbed his head with it, digging firmly into his scalp with his eyes closed. After doing that, he rinsed his hand of the bubbles and wiped his face before opening his eyes. He hated it when shampoos got into his eyes. It wasn't painful as much as it was obnoxious.

He soaped his body up through each crevasse then rinsed himself completely before stepping out of the tub. Snatching the towel, he rapidly dried himself and wrapped it around his waist. But, he didn't leave until admiring his body once more. "Hey there, hottie..."

"Cato!" Jocelyn again.

Cato sighed aggravatingly. "I'm coming out, Christ!"

"Don't say the lord's name in vain, Cato!" And with that, his sister left again.

Cato disliked the fact that his family was religious. Every corner of the house had a cross hung up on the wall along with a picture of Jesus next to it, captioned by some inspirational quotes by the Lord himself. Honestly, the boy became skeptic about his beliefs when he was nine, when his family suffered from poverty due to a divorce that his mom and dad had. Now, he was living with his mom and step-dad. His step-dad wasn't bad. In fact, he was better than the poor excuse of a father Cato and Jocelyn had before. The standard was acceptable.

Cato lost all hope and faith in God because every time he prayed for something, nothing came back. If God was almighty and could do anything, why wasn't he responding to the young boy's calls? Was he busy? God was omnipresent! There was no way for him to be busy. Everything made no sense. So, skepticism came by and Cato is basically agnostic about the whole ideology.

The boy walked out of the bathroom, receiving an immediate flick of a tongue from his little sister who walked into the bathroom next. Flipping her off with his middle finger, he scurried away into his room and opened the closet. Cato also hated dressing himself. His instincts always told him to be color coordinated with his outfits and he essentially became a pure OCD guy for attires only. He swiftly pulled out a pair of boxer briefs, socks, jeans, and a shirt then got changed.

Naturally, he matched their colors.

Cato rushed downstairs into the dining room where his whole family was situated at - well, except his mother. She was cooking things in the kitchen while his step-dad and sister was hanging around the table. His step-dad was reading a newspaper before glancing up at Cato and saying good morning. His sister was curling her hair, looking into a fist-sized mirror set on the table.

"Cato, I don't think your girlfriend likes those colors." Jocelyn commented, curling the hair on the opposite side of her head now.

Said boy looked at her curiously. "Girlfriend?" He inquired. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Jocelyn looked up with a snort. "Please," she said going back to her cosmetics, "everyone knows how you look at Clove. You guys were friends since like, what, first grade? It's a match made in heaven."

"Shut up," Cato shook his head as he took a seat. Clove really was just his best friend. While he can admit to having a massive crush on her in elementary school, it all subsided as time went by. The feelings were mutual back then, to. He sighed, finding it unthinkable to see him with Clove as he fantasized back then.

Cato observed the table, smiling wide enough to show his canines. The table contained several dishes; one with eggs, one with some bacon, one with several toasted breads - it was the generic breakfast meal. The boy dove in immediately, clogging his throat occasionally and finding the need to gulp down a single cup of water.

Jocelyn looked at him ridiculously. "You're crazy..."

"It's all part of the football diet, isn't it, kiddo?" His step-dad asked.

"Yessir." Cato answered proudly with his mouth still full, words coming out like he had a lisp.

Jocelyn started laughing. "You sound so gay with a lisp."

_Clap._

The girl received a finger flick right on her forehead, the color of red showing through her slightly tanned skin. "Ow! What was that for?!" She started rubbing delicately at the area.

"For being a smart-ass with me every day," Cato responded. "You should stop it."

Jocelyn huffed a breath, stood up, grabbed her belongings and left the house with a slam on the front door. Cato mentally laughed at himself for having completely destroying her. Usually, it was the other way around with Jocelyn throwing out some unspeakable insults at him.

"Cato," His step-dad called out in the 'stop-it' manner.

Cato winced at his tone, looking at him with a smile initially, then having it fade away. He pouted. "Yes, sir..."

With a nod, his step-dad stood up while folding the newspaper. "You're driving to school right, Cato?"

"Yessir."

"Then could you do me a favor and take Jocelyn, too?" He asked as he laid down the newspaper down the table.

"What?!" Cato yelled. "B-but, why me?"

"Firstly, she's going to your school now. Second, I have an early meeting to attend at work. Third, because I said so. Kah-peesh?"

Cato tried to respond but couldn't formulate the words off the top of his head. In the end, he just exhaled deeply. "Fine..."

"That's a good boy," he ruffles his step-son's hair before walking into the kitchen to give his wife a few pecks. "I'll be back early tonight." And with that, he left.

Cato pouted annoyingly, taking several sips from his cup of water. He didn't know that his mother came in the dining room to pick up the leftover and empty dishes on the table. "Isn't he just a sweetheart?" She asked Cato, referring to his step-dad.

"Yeah, if you consider being some charming bastard a sweetheart."

"Cato!" She laughed.

"What? You know it's true!" Cato laughed along with her.

She shook her head, back-stepping toward Cato then leaning her head over to give his head a kiss. "I love you, honey."

"I love you too, mom."

"You know, I've never been this happy in my life." She smiled. Cato probably thought his mother as the most beautiful woman in the world. Her wavy blonde hair flowing past her shoulders, those bright emerald green eyes, pink lips that glistened naturally, and a small nose. She was also a few inches over five feet, a lot shorter than Cato's massive six feet two inches. "I think you understand why."

"I do, mom." He smiled at her, tilting his head backward to see her face-to-face. She gave him a peck on the lips before going into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Cato stood up and walked into the kitchen, "You need some help with those?" He asked.

"What's this? Cato offering to help wash dishes? Surprise surprise!" She broke out into a gigglefest, turning the water faucet on and squirting some laundry detergent on the dirty dishes. "Thanks, honey, but no thanks. You remember the last time you washed the dishes, right?"

Cato regrettably did. He accidentally got water all over the counter and broke two plates in the progress. It was understandable considering he was only eleven when this happened - six years ago. "That's so long time ago."

"You still act like a child though, you know?" She was already done with several plates. Cato was always impressed at how efficient and accurately she can finish her chores within a short amount of time.

"I like retaining somewhat of my innocence still..." Cato retaliated.

"I don't think I can call you innocent after what I saw four years ago; you on your bed, with your hand right on your-"

"Mom, no, stop." Cato interrupted.

"What?" She laughed harder. "Oh, c'mon, you know that was funny."

"No, it wasn't... that was so embarrassing. I told you to forget about it, too!"

"My little Cato is so grown up now. Soon, you'll be moving out on your own, then marry someone, have a family of your own..."

"Oh, mom..."

His mother stopped laughing, a somewhat melancholic smile on her face. "I'm proud of you, Cato, you know that? I understand how you feel about God and stuff. Of course I do, I'm your mother."

"Mom." Cato repeated.

"Nothing you do will make me love you less, okay?"

"I know that."

"Good." She finishes washing her dishes, rinsing her hands then turning around to look up at her tall son. "Excuse me, Mister Titan."

"Okay," Cato shook his head with a grin moving out of the way for her, "I'm not _that_ tall."

"Taller than most kids," She snorted, plopping herself on the living room couche, "speaking of which, shouldn't you go to school now?"

Cato looked at the time on the clock placed upon the wall. "Oh, shit!" He ran out, picking up his things before going outside.

"Language!" His mom called with a chuckle.

His sister was outside, leaning against his beautiful red mustang. She was on her phone, probably texting a friend of hers about some sort of recent drama with her ex-boyfriend. "We're going to be late because of you," she said.

"You could've walked. Don't blame my ass for it." He unlocked the car doors, hopping into the driver's seat. Jocelyn, into the passenger's seat.

Cato was proud of his car. His mother and stepfather bought him the car on his sixteenth birthday and made him the happiest boy of that year. It was his ideal car; the perfect squared shape of the car and the color was his favorite, he couldn't love his parents enough for it. Before taking off, he remembered to put on his seat-belt on, reminding his sister to do so as well. Then he turned on the air conditioner, putting it at maximum level to freshen up the inside of the car a bit.

"Off we go!" Cato put his car in reverse and drove out rapidly. He then shifted his car into drive, driving off toward school as fast as he can while being a law-abiding citizen.

* * *

Northern Borderline High School was extremely huge with the populace of students easily reaching above 3,000 students. The seniors had the least amount of people but held the most reputation out of all the them. Juniors were the second most respected group of the totem-pole. Sophomores weren't respected as much as they were right next to the freshmen. They were better than them for sure, but the arrogance they held for being one single grade higher than the freshmen made them less likable. Lastly, the freshmen; they were the most annoying. They thought of themselves as gods because they graduated junior high school, not realizing that high school was the worst stage of all school lives.

Jocelyn looked at me with a smile as we got closer to the school. Cato looked back with a mocking smile, receiving a hard smack on the shoulder from her.

"Can you not?" she grunted.

"Can you not refer to Tumblr phrases?" Another smack. "And not hit me whenever I mock you?"

"Screw you, Cato, I'm a freshm-... a freshwoman, now!" She flipped her brunette hair.

"And seniors hate the fuck out of you. You're lucky we're related." Cato said truthfully.

_**HONK.**_

Cato looks to his left to see another car, a green Volkswagon bug. On top of the driver's seat holding the wheel was Clove, his best friend. She waved at him happily with sunglasses on then pointed frontward with a jerk of her head. I understood the signal and gave her a thumbs up.

Jocelyn looked over from her passenger's seat, waving at Clove. "Hi, Clove!" She called.

"She can't hear you."

"Open the windows then!"

"Then the AC is going to go out... Stupid." Cato stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh my god, Cato. Fine, be like that." She crossed her arm, staring out the window angrily.

"Lighten up, it's your first day of high school. See?" He pointed toward a short, freshmen-boy walking on the sidewalk to school. "Your friend's right there."

"He's my ex."

A pause.

"Well, this is awkward," Cato replied, continuing to drive while looking at Clove.

She was wearing a rainbow t-shirt and a normal pair of blue jeans. Cato was wearing a simple blue t-shirt, tanned jeans and a pair of brown sneakers.

Several minutes later, Cato and Clove parked at the parking lot, right next to each other. As soon as Cato got out, he was jumped by a pleasant hug from Clove. He hugged back tightly, shaking her in the air while holding onto her. After a few seconds, he put her down and smiled at her. She did, too.

"How long has it been? A few years?" Cato asked jokingly.

"Actually, it's only been like two months." She played along.

"Close enough." He laughed.

People mistaking them for a couple was understandable. They were very close to each other and didn't mind flirting with each other since their flirts toward one another practically held no more effects. Those times when they had butterflies for each other elementary school was over. They had their own priorities and developed a type of people they wanted a relationship with.

Jocelyn walked off, already surrounded by several of her freshmen chick-friends. They locked arms, with her in the middle, as if she was the biggest bitch of them all. Clove looked at Cato then at Jocelyn walking off, shaking her head. "Still having a hard time getting along with her?"

Cato snorted, putting his backpack on. "No, we're siblings. It's kind of natural to have this love-hate relationship."

"I wish I fucking had a sibling."

"Maybe you can take Jocelyn."

"No, thanks. My mom's already a bitch, I don't wanna deal with two." She said seriously.

Cato just started laughing out right then and there. Clove looked confused at first, blinking her eyes in confusion. "What? What's so funny?" She inquired, but Cato couldn't answer because his laughs overpowered his words. "I'm being serious!"

"I know you are!" Cato seized his laughing a little. "That's why I was laughing."

"You laugh at my suffering. What a great friend you are." She joked.

"You know you love me." Cato recited accidentally.

"I know you care," she sung.

"We are not singing to Justin Bieber." Cato promptly said. He despised the boy's music and persona. With the media attention he received, the boy became a massive douchebag.

"I don't like him either. Anyways, off we go!" They locked arms and started walking toward the school, through the crowds of other students coming in.

High school is awful. People were separated into cliques that they never intended on joining. Cato was luckily one of the football players that gave no shit about belonging into a clique. Whether someone was a nerd, geek, jock, goth, emo, or whatever stereotype, he always managed to befriend a few of them. It wasn't hard at all. People just have to try.

Everything was going fine and dandy, until I saw him.


End file.
